


Until I Recover

by Writingfangirlforhire



Series: Until The Series Is Dawn (Done? Get it?) (I'm so sorry) [2]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Psychologists & Psychiatrists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingfangirlforhire/pseuds/Writingfangirlforhire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Police finally announced Beth and Hannah as dead, so now their family and friends can begin the healing process. But Joshua knows that it will take a very long time for him to recover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until I Recover

            Josh stared numbly at the wall, indifferent to all around him. This had started for him after Mike and Jess had come through about 10 minutes through the calling hours to pay their respects. Everything began to meld together for him after that. He looked at either the wall or the floor as people came and shook his hand or hugged him, not one getting a different response than another. Except Chris.

            Chris had shown up about a half an hour into the calling hours and, once he saw Josh’s faraway expression and general disinterest, had decided to stay through the next two and a half hours.

            “Bro,” Chris’s hand squeezed Josh’s shoulder from behind, “You need to drink something.” Chris reached around his side and pressed a glass of water into his hand. Josh turned his head to look over his shoulder at Chris, who gave him a stern look, and then took a sip of water. He dropped his arm, just barely holding on to the glass of water. The calling hours were almost over and there wasn’t really anybody around.

            Chris moved around to face Josh, grabbing the glass of water from his loose grip. “Josh,” he said softly, “Let’s go to the back. Okay?” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t even a suggestion. Chris grabbed Josh’s hand and pulled his best friend into the back of the funeral home, to where there was some actually comfortable sitting space and some snacks for the family. He made Josh sit down on a couch, sitting beside him, still holding his hand.

            Josh looked in between his feet. Chris wouldn’t have been able to tell from what was shown physically, but Josh was clinging onto him like he was a lifeline. Josh took a deep breath.

            “It’s all fuzzy,” he mumbled, “I can’t remember what they looked like that night.” Tears welled up in his eyes for the first time since that night. He squeezed his free hand into a tight fist to battle the tears. Chris observed this and moved and kneeled in front of Josh, still holding his hand and grabbing the other one.

            “You can cry Josh,” he said softly. Josh looked into his blue eyes and immediately broke down, falling forward into Chris’s shoulder. Josh sobbed into Chris as the blonde released one of his hands and hugged him with that arm, pulling him closer.

            “I-if I had-dn’t d-drunk-k-k so much that-t I pass-ssed ou-out,” he sobbed into Chris’s shoulder. Chris held him tighter.

            “I know,” Chris hummed, “I think about that too. If I hadn’t been pissed ass drunk, I could have done something.” Chris’s voice broke as he spoke, self-hatred obvious in his tone. Josh cried harder, hearing his friend blame himself.

            It had been two month’s since that night. A week since the police officially announced the girls as dead. And Josh hadn’t recovered any.

            He cried until the tears wouldn’t come any longer, but still, he held onto Chris after he was done. Chris had pressed his face into Josh’s neck, he took comfort in his friend like his friend was taking from him. Both of their shoulders were wet from tears.

            It gave Josh a sense of comfort and safety. He was practically straddling Chris and he could feel the warmth of Chris’s stuttered breaths on his neck and back; it was comforting. The only times Josh had felt safe, and secure since that night had been in immediate contact with Chris.

            They’d always been able to comfort each other through physical means. When Chris’s grandmother had passed away, Josh had spent the night for a week, sleeping in Chris’s bed with him to offer comfort.

            Just as then, so then now. Josh felt himself calming down and coming back to himself in Chris’s arms.

            No homo right?

            “Boys?” Sam’s tired voice interrupted, “The hours are over.” She sounded tired and concerned, but not the least bit surprised to see Chris and Josh in such a position.

            Chris shifted out from under Josh, lifting him up to the couch again, “Thanks Sam,” Chris said, still clasping Josh’s hand. Josh looked up at Sam, who offered him a drained smile. He lifted the corner of one side of his mouth for a half-second in a half-assed response. Chris sat beside him on the couch, with the glass of water that he’d previously set aside, and put one arm around him.

            “How are you Miss Samantha?” Chris asked as he gave Josh the glass of water, which the older man took eagerly this time. Sam shrugged, leaning against the door and softening the wrinkles in her black dress.

            “It was so hard before, to actually realize that they were really gone. It made it impossible to accept it you know?” She sighed, emotionally spent, “But all this will help I think. It’ll make it real, which will help me to fully accept it and finally move on some.” Chris nodded with a deep throated hum. Josh took another drink of his water and said his first words that day.

            “I’ll take a long time to recover.”

                                                            ______________________

            “How are you feeling Joshua?” His psychiatrist asked, stirring his cup of tea. Josh looked down at his hands with a frown. He thought about everything he’d felt since the last session, everything he could remember anyway.

            “Joshua?” Dr. Hill interrupted his thoughts and Josh realized that, as per usual for him, he’d been staring off into space for almost a full minute without responding. He looked up at the doctor with a sigh.

            “I’m having…. Problems,” Josh admitted in a mumbled response, rubbing his hands on his thighs restlessly. He looked around nervously, refusing to look at the psychiatrist. He could hear Dr. Hill making notes.

            “Are you still having the panic attacks?” Dr. Hill asked. Josh looked up at him, quirking his mouth to one side in a frown. He started to shake his head slowly, but stopped and cocked it.

            “Yes, but I had those before….” He said slowly with a shrug, “This is different. I- I’m not sure how to describe it.” Josh looked away with another shrug. Dr. Hill sighed and sat back, his chair squeaking because of the leather.

            “Does it feel like you’re forgetting something perhaps, Joshua?”

            Josh looked at him in surprise, “Well, I mean, it feels like that now,” he said sarcastically, “What do you mean?” Dr. Hill interlaced his fingers and smiled at Josh in that unnerving way of his.

            “Sometimes, Joshua, as one begins to move on in the mourning process, they will encounter a feeling of forgetfulness. As they move on from the death of their family member they will begin to think about that person less,” Dr. Hill explained gently, “Sometimes, this will cause a feeling of forgetfulness or betrayal, when it is completely usual and not at all a betrayal towards the deceased. In fact-.”

            “Stop.” Josh interrupted, fingers pressed against his temple, “That’s not the problem at all. I’m not forgetting the girls, or what happened. In fact, as time goes on, I remember more and more. My problem is just that something else is consuming my thoughts, but it still has to do with the girls.”

            “Anger?” Dr. Hill suggested. Josh shook his head violently, rubbing his hands on his thighs again.

            “No,” he said, with almost a laugh, “Ha, no. Anger. Anger would stunt the healing process. This is different,” Josh smiled, “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to stunt my healing. No, it’s a desire to make things right.”

            He looked up at Dr. Hill with a grin, hands no longer rubbing his thigh.

            “I’m going to help everyone heal, doctor. They’re going to have to heal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Part Two of my Until Dawn series. Comments and Kudos appreciated.


End file.
